Squam Stories: Into the Woods

There is a me inside of me,
inside
the outside me
you see.

--Karla Kuskin

Back in January, I wrote that I was worried, after more than a decade of nearly constant company, that I may have forgotten how to be alone: "Somewhere buried within the organized, capable Mother is still the girl who would leave her apartment with nothing but some cash, lip balm, and a blank book; who landed in Paris without knowing a soul there; who was happy to spend hours just sitting and people watching with a notebook. Who felt that anything was possible and adventures definitely were for her. I want to take that girl to the woods of New Hampshire in June. I want to let her loose." 

I am so thrilled to report back that I am still completely comfortable by myself. It's such a good, life-saving quality, I think--the ability to be content with only your own company. Saturday afternoon I packed my backpack with some art supplies, my camera, and my water bottle, and I set out towards Longhouse, where my class had been that morning. I'd noticed the color of the water right there and wanted to get back to it.

I would have liked to try to catch that color green in watercolors, but it was so breezy I didn't think I'd be successful with the paper and paints, so I settled with trying to capture it with my camera, for later.

I'd brought a map of the camp with me and noticed there was a trail that followed the edge of the lake, so that's what I attempted to find. I took notice of whatever caught my eye. Interesting shadows--

Interesting textures--

I sat down on a bench with a dock and pulled out my sketchbook and colored pencils.

It's not a terribly good rendering of my view, but no matter. The words say, "It is strange to be around water that is not influenced by the tides."

Along the way, I took this rather goofy self-portrait.

That's me, perfectly happy, by myself in the woods.

And that's my final, most important story. I was able, over the course of those five days, to spend lots of uninterrupted time with the me inside of me. I affirmed that yes, I am just as interesting of a person, to myself, as I was before having children. I suspected this was true, of course, but it was important to me to prove it; I can't begin to explain why.

Thank you for coming along for these stories, which are just my unique way of sharing this experience. This is the last Squam story I'll be sharing in this space, although I have some projects inspired by my time there (and more to come, I'm sure). You can read many more Squam stories by many other attendees by checking out the list here.